Come Home To Me
by LaughingPenguins
Summary: Ezio and Leonardo are new to Venice, and Ezio discovers a longing to go to Leonardo, when he really should know better...


All characters are owned by Ubisoft: he are poor little penguins, and just play with their cookie cutters. We are new to this game, please read and review: if you review we can provide you with multiple hours of fun (fish from the atlantic as it were) and we are open to suggestions and ideas. Review and read and enjoy. ALSO, if you don't like hot man on man sex, no lobster for you!

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><p>It was drawing close to evening in Venice, and Ezio Auditore lurked around the fruit markets by the Rialto Bridge. He was new to this beautiful city, and was as yet reluctant to return to his small room to try to find sleep. Equally, he had no desire for the company of strangers tonight. Ezio was unsettled. The move to Venice had in ways pleased him, but also scared and daunted him if he allowed himself to think of the tasks which lay ahead. He paced from the closing market up to the centre of the bridge, and there stared down the Grand Canal, watching the orange rays of another day's dying sun flicker on the windows and rooftops, the boats and the water of this place he had yet to memorise by heart. One address, however, he had memorised. Something within him refused his going there, but here, in this strange, but beautiful city he was pleased to know he had a friend. He breathed in the air and drank in the sound of water beneath him. Looking down to his left he saw a group of three gondoliers saying their goodbyes and climbing into their crafts. Slowly, they moved off into the distance, gliding through the now orange water as black shadows in the dying light. He sighed. It was good to know a friend was nearby. A friend and more, but still he felt he should not go there tonight. It was too soon: it had been mere hours since their last parting, and to return too soon may seem... may seem to mean something.<p>

Reaching up, Ezio tossed back his hood and threw his head back. His body was weary. He felt an exhaustion in his limbs, but still he did not want to go to his new home, to his new bed, to sleep... alone. He looked to the rooftops and thought of exploring, but dismissed the idea. Instead, he leant forward, staring out ever further into the night, and he felt his mind wander. Lifting a hand to the nape of his neck he massaged the aching muscles there, and almost in a daze undid his small ponytail, and let his deep, brown hair fall about his face. His mind wandered further. The black silhouettes of the gondoliers were fading now, but the direction in which they moved sparked images in his mind...

'Leonardo stood before him, naked and beautiful. The man was bathed in sweat and orange candlelight, and Ezio sat before him in an armchair by the burning embers of the fire. Leonardo was laughing, and drinking. He moved not a step, but stared at Ezio with a smile playing upon his lips. Leonardo proved to Ezio's broken heart and slowly breaking soul that true happiness could still exist in this world. Putting down his own glass, the young assassin stood and walked the few paces towards his lover. Standing before him, his shirt open and breeches undone, he wrapped a strong arm around the artist's waist and pulled him close as Leonardo nuzzled into his neck. Ezio removed the man's glass and placed it on a table, as Leonardo ran long, tender fingers through the younger man's long hair. Half-pulling, half-lifting Leonardo on to his thigh, Ezio moved them from the front of the workshop, and walked them, ever kissing and hands ever exploring through to the quiet back room where his lover's bed was.'

His feet finding the bottom of the Rialto Bridge steps, Ezio continued to massage his neck, his hair entwined in his fingers as he moved unseeing into the night. His feet acted as his unknowing guide, pulling him through the city, begging him to investigate further, but the rest of him thought of sleep, and quiet, and warmth. His grace seemed lost, and his footfalls became a kind of lurching, two parts of the same fighting and resisting. Ezio paused by a wall, and while sighing placed a hand to its cold, stones and brought his head down beside it, letting the weight come off his feet.

'One hand against the wall propped Ezio up as Leonardo began tracing his body with his lips: no line, no bone, and no muscle escaped their blistering touch; and they moved, taking each part of the man's body in turn, oblivious to the effect they had. The young man could feel his body weaken, as Leonardo's hand too stroked and caressed, beginning at his calf muscles, and moving up to grip his strong, defined thighs. An agonising groan spilled past Ezio's lips, as the artist took one single finger and drew it up and down his inner thigh. Leonardo must have known the power he held; and, certainly, Ezio could feel that part of him which now burned with longing and unadulterated desire, move, and almost tremble with need. Ezio sank his fingers into the artist's flowing hair, trying to translate further his want, as Leonardo brought his lips down to where his hands still lingered. A swift tongue slipped out, and moved across the head of Ezio's penis, which now pulsated with absolute need. The tongue slipped up and down the shaft, and Ezio began to feel his body crumble and almost fall to the floor. Leonardo let out a small, intoxicating laugh, before closing in around Ezio's erection; Ezio's eyes filled, he wanted this – no, needed it, and his body would ache until that need was fulfilled. The older, more experienced man, brought his hands up to cup Ezio tight arse, forcing and pulling him in as Leonardo sucked, moving up and down, settling occasionally as he came to the head, increasing the pressure there until he felt the man buck his hips forward.'

Ezio lurched down a tight alleyway, badly negotiating the tightness of the street, with eyes half-closed to the darkening night. Still one hand lingered on his neck, but his other now wrapped around his stomach, clutching as though trying to stem a pain to which the assassin remained oblivious.

'He felt his body slip, and Ezio came to the ground, spilling backwards, while the artist wasted no time crawling on top, his lips brushing past Ezio's chest to find his lips. His tongue pushed its way into Ezio's mouth, demanding attention, and Ezio readily accepted, his hands snaking along Leonardo's back, clinging there. Leonardo offered a small smile but his eyes seemed serious; he moved slightly, taking Ezio's knees and moving them close to the man's chest, one hand pinning them in place, while the other reached down, and, with a smile, Leonardo tested Ezio. Delicately, he slipped one finger inside the man, and, at first, gently moved it slowly in and out, as Ezio let out long, breathy moans, before he increased the pace. Ezio's hips forced themselves upwards, and one hand shot out to find Leonardo, but the man evaded, and without warning pushed a second finger in, curling them over. The sensation was too much – Ezio felt his head swimming, the pleasure carrying him away. He could not wait. His two hands stretched out and this time found Leonardo's naked shoulders, and dragged him down to his lips. Instead of drawing them into a kiss, Ezio's mouth formed the word "Please," against them, before one of the hands departed from its grasp on Leonardo's shoulder to the artist's hair. There was a smile, then Ezio felt a scorching heat as Leonardo shoved into him.'

Ezio was close now; he could feel it even if he did not fully realise it. His feet had found new purpose and energy, driving him onwards without thought as his mind lingered on others things.

'Leonardo thrust powerfully, his slender body disguising the power it controlled. Ezio could feel that slow burning heat building, wishing to leave his body, but Leonardo continued, going deeper and deeper with each deft movement. Ezio's hips rose up trying to meet him, but he seemed powerless against this older man, whose experience and knowledge far exceeded his own. Leonardo now commanded Ezio's body, and his hands pinned him down to the wooden floor, each of his fingers curling around Ezio's strong arms. At first Ezio struggled against this new challenge posed by the artist, but with each movement Leonardo moved deeper inside, and quicker. The artist brought harsh gulps into his lungs, drinking air down like a thirsty man who had been in the desert for years, while every now and then he let out a long, drawn out cry of pleasure as the young man continued his gyrations under him. Ezio was still heady; feeling the pressure mounting against him he moved his hand down to the artist's beating erection, wrapping his newly roughened hands around it, slowly pumping it up and down, quickening as Leonardo's motions did. Leonardo let out an echoing, powerful scream that tore through the night, and sent Ezio's body wild: eager, he pulled at the man, forcing him on. Responding, Leonardo sped up, his body almost blurring before Ezio's eyes, as he thrust his whole weight into the man, each movement eliciting moans from both. Leonardo leant down over the heaving body of Ezio, planting a firm, determined kiss against his neck, his teeth breaking from the soft, pink flesh to pinch Ezio's flesh. The heat of his mouth caused Ezio's body to spasm and he felt himself lose and spill, his passion bursting out, relieving the burning heat he had felt. Leonardo pumped ever longer and deeper into his lover. He felt the heat of Ezio's passion between them, and sensed the release in the younger man's body as Ezio lay soft against the floor. The tension which had defined him was dissipating and Leonardo pounded into him unimpeded. He wasn't breathing anymore, and Ezio opened his eyes to see the concentration and love etched on the artist's face. His lips were slightly parted. Reaching under Ezio, Leonardo cupped his arse once again and now pulled him into him as he pounded, knowing he was close. The harshness of his movements drew ever louder moans from Ezio's relaxed, but still earnest frame. After long seconds in which Ezio felt his hands, which clutched at the artist's stomach, become bathed in the other man's sweat, Leonardo dropped heavier on top of and into him. The depths Leonardo now reached were almost unbearable, but Ezio had long been lost to his passions, and his desire was awakened once again by the piercing roar Leonardo now released. The artist tossed back his head and removed one hand from his lover's body to punch the hard, wooden floor. His love raged inside of Ezio as the artist continued to move, slower now, as his cry died into a long moan. His hips continued to pulse, until finally he stopped, allowing Ezio to relax from his tensed position. With one final moan he shoved one last time into his lover while his hand fell pounding, weaker now, into the floor.'

Ezio awakened from his daze. The hand which had been on his stomach was now lifted under his shirt with several of his lower buttons undone where they had not been before. His other hand was raised, and had made contact with a heavy, wooden door. He found himself gasping, no idea of where he really was, why he had come there or what he was doing. He was hot, his head felt light, but his body was aching with something which far surpassed exhaustion. Before he could even consider turning away, he found himself recognising his location, and then the door opened and his eyes settled on Leonardo da Vinci's smiling face. He had found his way home, to where he now knew he had wanted to be all evening.

Leonardo spoke not a word to him, but instead took the young man in his arms and held him tight - too tight - for long minutes. Ezio felt himself crawl into his lover's arms. Leonardo was strong and his own body was weak. The artist carried him into his workshop, and shut out the world behind them. Ezio remained in Leonardo's arms. His lover still did not speak. Instead he brushed aside the assassin's flowing hair and spread kisses across his strong neck. Ezio moaned, and he felt Leonardo smile into him, his lips brushing his aching skin. Blowing out candles as he walked, Leonardo moved them towards his bedroom, where in the semi-darkness of one final, as yet un-extinguished candle, he broke their grasp and turned to Ezio.

"You came home to me... I had so hoped you would,"

Ezio could do nothing but smile, having still no idea of how his feet had guided him here. He was grateful though, and that he could not deny. He fell upon his lover, kissing him passionately, and Leonardo held his kiss and returned it, until he pushed them apart once again. The artist saw the hurt on Ezio's face, but it vanished as he moved his hands to finish undoing the final restraints on the assassin's shirt. His breeches were treated to the same ministrations, until Ezio was stripped before him, swaying slighting with exhaustion, bit smiling still. Slowing, Leonardo walked around his lover, and kissed him again, his naked body pressing against his. He pushed the assassin's chest and Ezio fell into his small bed. Leonardo moved the covers over his beautiful body, and then stripped slowly. As his clothes fell to the floor, the dying candle sparked weak beams of light across his slender, but muscular frame. Leonardo, now naked, turned to it, and breathing in one final glance at his lover's face, he blew out the candle and crawled into his bed alongside Ezio.

The sheets were cold on their naked skin, but as Leonardo lay beside him, Ezio's strong hands ravaged him, finding the spots which provoked groans from the artist, and warming him with his desire. Leonardo closed his eyes, his head on his shoulder and his body pressed against Ezio who seemed to crawl up and over him, though the assassin remained on his side. The feel of Ezio's strong arm across his stomach sent Leonardo's mind raging to their passionate actions earlier in the afternoon. He smiled still. Ezio spread his ponytail onto his shoulder and kissed into his neck, and Leonardo melted. The warmth of his lover was almost agonising, and his strength and desire was tangible. Leonardo pushed his hips and arse back into his lover's groin, and Ezio, though tired, moaned deeply into his lover's neck. His hands moved from the artist's stomach to his thighs, and then to his penis. There was no erection now, but Ezio took his lover into his hands and moved softly, but rhythmically up and down his length. Leonardo didn't groan, but he was smiling into his pillow. This he loved. Ezio's passion, and the desire he felt for him, was more than he could ever have hoped for, but this... just this... this...

Ezio kissed his neck harder, and pushed his hips into Leonardo. Leonardo smiled more into his pillow, and wrapped his free arm around the assassin's waist, pulling him closer to him. Ezio whispered, barely intelligible words, into his neck. And then, to Leonardo's surprise, he lowered his hand, curving around Leonardo's thighs and arse, settling on his entrance. There he pushed a single digit into his lover, exciting a moan from Leonardo, but there he stopped. He nuzzled close, holding Leonardo tight against him. He moved from kissing the artist's neck to resting his head upon his lover's shoulder. Excitement passed through Leonardo, but he remained tired, and the touch of his lover inside of him, while holding him tight, now surpassed the feelings of passion they had expressed to one another earlier in the day.

Night closed in around the workshop, and to those passing along the street outside it was just another homestead, closed off to the darkness and waiting for the dawn. Little could anyone imagine that inside, through a heavy, locked door two young lovers lay together, arms entwined and entangled, smiles upon their sleeping faces, one lover sleepily inside the other... no sex, no love-making, no nothing, but sleep between two lovers, and a desire though neither would ever admit it, for morning not to come, and for this one night to last forever... and ever.


End file.
